The Knight's Rise
by Bridgeport55
Summary: Magic is outlawed. Harry is lost in obscurity... that is until someone saves him from his lowly place in society. What does that mean? Well, he is Harry Potter. That can only mean one thing-he has a destiny... a destiny that refuses to stay dormant. How will Harry make it in this brand new, magical world? There's only one way to know. Read on.
1. Chapter 1

The Knight's Rise

Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me. It belongs to J.K. Rowling. All hail J.K. Rowling.

Rating: PG

Summary: Magic is outlawed. Harry is lost in obscurity... that is until someone saves him from his lowly place in society. What does that mean? Well, he _is_ Harry Potter. That can only mean one thing-he has a destiny... a destiny that refuses to stay dormant. How will Harry make it in this brand new, magical world? There's only one way to know. Read on.

* * *

Chapter One

"Get outta the way, Runt!" the biggest man-servant said with a sneer. "We eat first. _You _get the scraps."

The man-servant, Dudley, pushed him aside. Harry was deterred from his path.

"Now, Dudley, there is more than enough for all of you," said Bernadette, one of the maids at The Eyelops's Tavern. She placed five bowls of gruel on the small, wooden kitchen table.

Harry scowled. He was behind Dudley and four other servants. He could not reach for a bowl.

A slight blonde stood beside him. "Get one for me, Anaret," whispered Harry to the young girl. "If you can." It was almost a dare.

Anaret nodded. Then, Harry watched a miracle. The young girl squeezed through the small group of servants and reached the bowls of gruel.

A minute later she reappeared beside Harry. One bowl of grayish gruel was in both of her hands.

She was breathless. "Here," Anaret breathed out in small gasps.

Harry smiled. He reached for the bowl of gruel.

Without warning, someone jostled Anaret. She then bumped into Harry. "Oops," said the person. It was Dudley—a fellow servant at The Eyelops's Tavern and Harry's nemesis.

The two bowls of gruel slipped from Anaret's fingers before either Harry or Anaret could do anything.

Dudley laughed meanly as the bowls and all their contents spilled across the floor. "I guess you two will have to eat your food off of the ground," he said with a mean laugh.

Harry stared at the bowls of food. The gray gruel mixed with the dust at his feet.

Harry wanted to cry out in anger. However, he did not. Instead, he glared at Dudley. The pig-faced boy gobbled down his food. Then, he backhanded Anaret. Anaret cried out. Then, he stole the bowl of gruel from the young girl.

Anaret looked desolate.

Harry turned away. He felt sickened by the sight of the small blonde who, too, was near-to-tears.

Dudley moved away. When his back was turned, Harry spoke to Anaret. "Come here," said Harry quietly. The two moved to a dark corner of the room. Harry moved aside some rucksacks that rested on the Tavern wall. He brought out a small cloth hidden behind the sacks.

He peeled the cloth open to show the reward hidden within.

It was a hard roll of bread, a thick piece of mutton and a hunk of yellow cheese.

"I was saving this for later," confided Harry. "But, perhaps we can have it now."

Anaret's eyes grew wide. She stared at the food reverently.

"Oh, Harry! I am _ever_ so grateful. I have not eaten all-day."

Harry ripped the bread into two pieces and handed one half over to the young girl.

"You- you wanted to save this until after the Coronation?" asked Anaret between bites of the bread.

"Yes," he responded. "Yet, the tavern should be quite full this evening because of it. I am certain I can slip something off of some of the tables when everyone's eyes are too busy to notice."

He handed Anaret half of the mutton and half of the cheese as well.

"I do not see why we should care so much about the Princess's fifteenth birthday," said Anaret with an eye-roll. "She has naught to do with us."

Harry laughed quietly. "I agree. However, the townsfolk are pleased to have a few days off because of the Coronation."

"Yes. Will she be the Queen now?" asked Anaret.

"Not quite. She will not have _that_ title until she is married."

A loud voice interrupted their conversation. "Off you get, you two!" said Bernadette. "The Tavern shan't get tidy with you two lolly-gagging about!"

"We best be off before she cooks us into her mince pies," said Anaret with serious eyes.

"And so," responded Harry with a laugh.

* * *

That evening the Eyelops's Tavern was full of people just as Harry predicted. Many men were drunk on mead. Some were gambling by the bar. Others were sipping their drinks by the fireplace.

Harry rushed this-way-and-that among the crowd of customers. He did what he always did—he served food, he cleared off tables and he directed people toward the Master of the Tavern, Willis Witherby. The Master oversaw everything at Eyelops… this included customers who wished to stay in an upstairs room for the evening (sometimes with a lady-friend if the customer offered the right price.)

Dudley was in the dining room area as well. Harry avoided him like he typically did. He never got along with Dudley. Dudley and Harry were both sent to Eyelops's Tavern from the local orphanage. They were around the same age and they were sent together. Ever since then, Dudley viewed Harry as a threat—then and now. It was like Dudley deemed that every scrap of food Harry ate was _his_ by right. _I hate how that Pig thinks, _Harry thought. _He thinks that if it's _mine_, it should really be _His_, _Harry thought with anger.

Moments later, Harry forgot Dudley.

He was by the front door when it happened. The door swung open and a harsh, bitter wind blew through the Tavern. A woman stood in the entryway. She was older—too old to truly know her correct age—with gray haired carefully placed on top of her head. She wore an emerald green cloak that looked to be lined with soft mink. A blood red ruby served as a latch on her cloak.

Rain and sleet fell on the woman. The woman seemed annoyed at the weather's insistent presence.

"Welcome," said Harry when he managed to get a-hold of himself. "Can I help you?"

"Yes. I have traveled long and hard this day. I would like the stable boy to take care of my chaise and my horses. I would also like something to eat—perhaps some stew, bread with goat cheese—anything that you have available."

"Yes, Ma'am," said Harry with a nod. "You needn't worry. The Eyelops's Tavern has the best grub this side of the River. Our cook, Bernadette, has made a fine stew this night."

"I see," said the woman with a dissatisfied nod. She did not seem happy.

The red ruby gleamed brightly in the dim light of the Tavern's dining room.

"Perhaps… you would like some newly baked bread with a hunk of mutton as well as the stew? Also, we have a good, yellow cheese, milk and cream. The cheese, milk and cream are fresh."

The woman looked pleased. "Fine."

"Would you like a strong, red wine as well? We have a casket down in the cellar that is due to be opened soon."

"A strong, _red_ wine, you say?"

"Indeed."

"Yes, that is much better."

"All of that will cost you," said Harry carefully. He did not wish to offend this woman if she was someone with good coin… and she sounded like she had some coin on hand.

"That will not be an issue," replied she.

Harry nodded. He turned to go. However, something stopped him before he did. "Before I take my leave, I would like to introduce myself. My name is Harold." He stood a little straighter. "Harry is my nickname, however. Please call me by that name."

The woman nodded.

"I will be happy to serve you this evening," he finished.

The woman raised a brow. "Quite," she said.

* * *

I plan to post the next chapter some time next week. I'll see you then.

-Bridgeport55


	2. Chapter 2

The Knight's Rise

By Bridgeport55

Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me. It belongs to J.K. Rowling. All hail J.K. Rowling.

Rating: PG

Summary: Magic is outlawed. Harry is lost in obscurity... that is until someone saves him from his lowly place in society. What does that mean? Well, he _is_ Harry Potter. That can only mean one thing-he has a destiny... a destiny that refuses to stay dormant. How will Harry make it in this brand new, magical world? There's only one way to know. Read on.

* * *

Chapter Two

Harry rushed from the kitchen with a cordial of wine.

"There you are, Harry," said the woman. Harry arrived by the woman's side and poured more wine into her goblet.

"I apologize, Ma'am. We are quite busy tonight due to the Coronation."

"Naturally," she said. "At any rate, I have finished my meal. You can take the plates away."

"Right away, Ma'am," said Harry. Before Harry could gather the china, the woman placed a few golden coins on the table.

"The three galleons are for your service. The rest should be enough for the wine and for my meal."

Harry nodded. He cradled the coins in his hands like they were gold bullion, not three measly coins.

_Three galleons… _Harry thought to himself. _This is an auspicious night all-around._

"Those belong to _me_," said a deep voice. It came from behind him.

It was Dudley.

"No, they certainly do not," said the woman. "This boy has served me all evening. I have seen neither hair nor tail of _you_."

"I am in charge of him, you see, Ma'am," said Dudley. He gave her false saccharine smile.

"Liar," growled Harry. "You are not in charge of rodents, let alone _me_."

Dudley scowled and moved forward in a threatening manner.

Harry barred his teeth.

Before Harry knew it, Dudley grabbed Harry by the collar. Dudley shook the boy and the coins fell out of Harry's hands and rolled onto the ground.

"Give 'em here!" growled Dudley. "I have done more work this evening than_ you_. I deserve the coin!"

"Like hell you do!" yelled Harry. Harry used all the force in his body to push against the other boy. When Harry was free he raised his fist to punch Dudley in the face.

When his fist collided with Dudley's nose something happened… something strange.

The burning fire that was next to the woman roared louder. Harry saw the flames grow wild. They turned into a bright orange and red color. The burning, red arms of flame flared outside of the fireplace. Harry and Dudley were almost burnt.

The boys stopped scuffling.

"What in blazes is going on here?" someone said. The voice broke their reverie.

It was Willis Weatherby, the owner of The Eyelops's Tavern.

The man's bright red hair shone in the fireplace's orange and red light. "Harry? Dudley? This is no way to act in front our esteemed patron!"

"T'was Harry," Dudley said quickly. "I did nothing!"

"No, it was certainly not!" barked Harry. "You are the one who interfered here. You came here, demanding that I give you _my_ money. You—"

"That is quite enough," said Weatherby. He spoke over Harry's voice. "It is obvious that you two need to be separated _yet again_. Dudley, you will remain in the kitchens this evening. Harry, you will stay in the barn."

"Yes, Mr. Weatherby," said Dudley. He gave Harry a look that plainly said, _"I win."_

Harry wanted nothing more than to pummel him.

"Harry?" said Weatherby.

"Yes," responded Harry dully.

The woman looked on at the scene with curious eyes.

* * *

"I hate him," said Harry to himself. He stared at the low ceiling of the barn.

Harry was sitting inside a stable in The Eyelops's Tavern barn. There was a nag inside named Hershel. Harry knew Hershel well.

Harry ignored the animal. He picked up a stone and tossed it angrily at a nearby wall (he avoided Hershel, of course.)

"It is true that I found that young gentlemen to be quite… unsavory," someone said.

It was the woman.

Harry stood to attention immediately.

"Hello, again, Ma'am," Harry said as a way of greeting. "I'm sorry for the scene you witnessed earlier."

"Who was that bigger boy? Dudley, was it?"

"Yes, Dudley is his name. He is not anyone of import. He is certainly not in charge of me like he claimed. He tells falsehoods as easily as a peddler with no shillings at hand."

The woman nodded. "Tell me boy… Harry, was it not?"

Harry nodded.

"Harry, have you worked at this establishment long?"

Harry frowned. _What could this be about?_ he wondered. _Was he in more trouble? _

"Yes, I have worked here all of my life," replied Harry carefully.

"Your parents? Do they work here as well?"

Harry shook his head. "I am afraid not, Ma'am. I am an orphan. I have never known my parents."

The woman frowned. "How have you come to work at this establishment then?" she asked. She walked closer toward Harry and eyed him in an appraising manner.

"I lived at a nearby orphanage. I was sent here to work. I have lived here ever since." Harry shrugged. "I pay for my place here through my hard work."

The woman pursed here lips. "I see," she began. "Are you content with your place here?"

Harry shrugged. "Yes, I am content," he lied. "Why are you asking, if I may inquire?"

The woman said nothing for a long moment. Then she nodded as if she came to some sort of decision.

"What do you know of magic?" she said carefully.

"Magic?" echoed Harry. He gulped. He remembered the blazing fireplace. _Lie, lie, lie, _Harry thought. "I know nothing of magic. It is forbidden, of course. That is all I know."

"It is forbidden, so you know nothing?" replied the woman.

"And so."

"So, that display inside The Tavern… What do you make of that? Did the fireplace burst with light on its own accord?"

Harry avoided the woman's eyes. "Yes. What else could it be?"

"It could be something else... something dangerous—but something _yours_."

Harry said nothing.

"Harry… I believe—I know—that you have magic in you," she said plainly.

Harry knew what to do. This was not the first time he faced this accusation. "No, Ma'am. You are wrong. Magic is outlawed. I am no magician. I am just a simple servant boy."

The woman smiled. "Yes, of course," she responded carefully. "Naturally."

"Naturally."

She paused and stared at him with an unknowable expression in her gaze.

He stared back.

_Who are you?_ Harry thought.

"I will say something, Harry," said the woman. "I will say something-a gambit, if you will. After that, I will listen to your response. After that response, I will know something. Then nothing more will be said. Do you understand?"

"No."

The woman chuckled. She said something to herself under her breath. Harry was almost certain that he heard, "_He is so much like James."_

He did not know what to make of this.

She cleared her throat. "And so." She moved closer to him. Her eyes were serious.

"Harry, I am a magician. I am a witch," she said softly. "I am willing to teach you what I know of magic. I am willing to teach you _real _magic. What say you?" She gave him a small, knowing smile. "Have you done things like that display by the fireplace previously? Do you have magic, Harry?"

Harry gulped. He knew that this was an important moment—a life-altering event in his life.

Harry made up his mind. _In for a penny, in for a pound,_ he thought to himself.

"Yes," he said quietly. "I do."

* * *

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. The next one will be posted soon.

-Bridgeport55


	3. Chapter 3

The Knight's Rise

Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me. It belongs to J.K. Rowling. All hail J.K. Rowling.

Rating: PG

Summary: Magic is outlawed. Harry is lost in obscurity... that is until someone saves him from his lowly place in society. What does that mean? Well, he _is_ Harry Potter. That can only mean one thing-he has a destiny... a destiny that refuses to stay dormant. How will Harry make it in this brand new, magical world? There's only one way to know. Read on.

* * *

Chapter Three

Harry reached his arm out of the moving carriage. Anaret's small hand grasped onto his. "Oh, Harry, you must not forget me! You must return for me when you can!"

Harry gulped, but his mouth was dry. "Yes, Anaret. I shan't forget you."

It looked as if tears were welling up in Anaret's eyes. She brushed her eyes with the back of her arm. "Good-bye, Harry!" she called out as the chaise began to move.

"Good-bye," he said at last.

* * *

The ride was quiet. The woman seemed intent on one activity—knitting. She had a large bundle of thick wool beside her. The woman's hands kept busy as the chaise rolled on.

Harry disrupted the silence. "I am afraid I do not know your name," he said. "You are my new patron… it does not seem right that I do not know your proper title."

The woman smiled. She placed her knitting aside before she spoke. "My name is Duchess Minerva McGonagall."

Harry stared. _Duchess? _he thought incredulously.

"You should feel free to call me Duchess McGonagall or simply Duchess. Ma'am, Madam and Miss will certainly not suffice. You may certainly never call me by my first name."

Harry nodded. _Propriety is very important to her. Well, she is a_ Duchess_ after all, _thought Harry.

"Duchess McGonagall… where are we headed, if I may inquire?"

"We are heading toward my home near Castleberry. My home is a castle called Cair Pavellar."

"I see," said Harry. He could not believe his luck. A castle? This could mean a whole new life for him… a better life.

"Will I have my own room?" asked Harry before he could think of anything else to say.

Duchess McGonagall paused at the question. "Yes, Harry. You will," she said.

* * *

The ride was long and hard. They rolled on over rough terrain and were jostled too and fro. Harry felt a bitter chill in the evening. The Duchess stopped the chaise and retrieved a soft, warm blanket from her luggage.

Harry snuggled into the covers with a relieved smile. He dozed. After some time, Harry heard the Duchess speak to the driver.

"Are we very nearly there?" asked Harry.

"Yes. We shall be there quite soon."

* * *

Harry awoke when they neared Cair Pavellar. The castle looked even more astounding up close.

The building was made of solid, gray brick. Five giant, dark towers rose to the sky. A mote and a drawbridge were at the entrance of the castle. Harry and the Duchess waited for the drawbridge to descend over the mote before they could enter Cair Pavellar.

Harry was no longer sleepy—instead, he was excited.

The chaise rolled into the courtyard of the castle.

Harry stepped out of the chaise with deft steps. A household of servants stood in the courtyard to greet the Duchess… and he supposed _him_ as well.

"Ah, Relfort," Duchess McGonagall said to the man standing in the front of the line of servants. He was short and slight. He bowed when the Duchess turned to give him her full attention. "You are attending. Well done. I am tired this day. I would like you to put away my luggage. We would like a spot of dinner and some hot tea as well."

"Yes, Duchess," said Relfort. "If I may so inquire… Who is this young gentlemen?"

"My name is Harry," supplied Harry.

"Yes," responded the Duchess. "He was a help to me when I stopped by a wayward Inn on the road. I took a fancy to him. Now, he will be my new student."

Relfort raised one eyebrow in a sardonic fashion. "I see."

* * *

"Here you are, young, sir," said Relfort. The man opened the door and walked in. He lit a nearby fireplace with sure movements as Harry surveyed his surroundings. "It is a fine room," said Harry.

It was a room more than equal to any room available at Eyelops's Tavern. There was a white, fur carpet on the floor next to the fireplace. A large four-poster bed sat in the middle of the room. Embroidered, maroon hangings hung around the bed. The comforter that laid out on the bed was made of dark, brown fur.

Harry walked to the large framed windows. He drew back the curtains and saw a beautiful view of the grounds outside of the castle—there was beautiful, untamed land as far as he could see. The sun shone soft pink and orange light as it began to set in the distance.

"Is everything to your liking?" asked Relfort.

"Yes. I am pleased," said Harry. The man nodded and left.

Harry waited to make sure that the man was gone before he crowed in joy. He jumped onto the bed. The comforter felt like heaven.

Harry fell asleep moments later.

* * *

"Good morrow," said Harry to Duchess McGonagall the next day.

Duchess McGonagall was already seated at one end of the rectangular dining table. Her hair was clipped back a severe bun. She wore a soft orange gown with lace sleeves.

She looked stately in these surroundings.

The Duchess motioned for Harry to take a seat beside her. "How did you sleep?" she asked.

"I slept quite well," responded Harry. "My room was quite beautiful. I've never slept in such a warm comforter in my entire life."

"Good. I am glad your room is to your liking. Now that you are here I would like to discuss some matters with you. Namely, what you will be doing here at Cair Pavellar."

Harry nodded. "You said you would teach me magic," he said slowly.

"Yes. You see Harry, before magic was outlawed I was a teacher. I taught students magic from far and wide. Now that magic is outlawed, I no longer teach. However, now that you are here I am determined to show you all that I know."

"But… you would be in danger if you were found out," said Harry.

"_We_ would be in danger," she corrected. She gave him a small smile. "However, I do not plan to teach you out in the open. Everything you learn must be kept a secret."

Harry nodded.

"No one must know you are here—no one. You must remain on the grounds at all times. This is vitally important, Harry. No one at the Ministry can know that I have a stranger on the premises-a boy who is no blood relation to me. That is highly suspicious. If they discover you they will know what we are about."

"Yes, Duchess," said Harry.

Harry took a deep breath. "So... when will I learn magic?"

* * *

The next chapter will have magic in it. (I know that is we are all waiting for.) It should be up some time next week. I will see you then.

-Bridgeport55


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